Will They Ever Remember?
by SmallNeko
Summary: My name is Kenny McCormick, and today I realized how tortuous life can be. I have a few good friends, their names being Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, and, dare I say it, Eric Cartman. I die all the time, yet none of them know it. They don't know how agonizing it is, not just the pain of death, but of knowing that all of them will be gone before me. Will they ever remember?
1. Just A Normal Summer Day

My name is Kenny McCormick, and today I realized how tortuous and repetitive life can be. I have a few good friends, their names being Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, and, dare I say it, Eric Cartman. I die all the time, yet none of them know it. They don't know how agonizing it is, not just the pain of death, but of knowing that all of them will be gone before me. Will they ever remember?

Being immortal really isn't all it's meant up to be; it's torture. It's anxiety and worry; it's not what you think it is, and how much does it hurt!

In the middle of summer, Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and I, all got together to go on a walk to Stark's Pond. The weather was humid and sticky and hot. Surely, any other day would have been better for a walk, but no, the three of them wanted to go on a walk _that_ particular day.

As we walked, I talked aimlessly about the weather, "Why is it so hot and humid like this today?"

"I don't know, dude, maybe if you would take your jacket off you'd be a little less hot." Stan said, glancing at me as I walked behind him. Kyle and Stan were walking a little ways ahead of me, and Cartman, being the fatass he is, was all the way behind me.

I sighed and stopped in my tracks, feeling a couple drips of sweat on my forehead, "No, I can't take my jacket off." Taking a deep breath, I trudged on in our walk.

"Why?" Kyle asked as we crossed the street to get to Stark's Pond, "Don't you have other clothes under that?"

Chuckling, I caught up with the two of them, "Actually, I don't." They laughed up a storm once we all sat down on a log. Cartman jogged up to us a few moments later, "Aye! Assholes! Why didn't you wait for me?" He sat down next to me, all sweaty and smelly as if he'd just ran a whole mile.

Kyle looked over at him, retorting, "We have been waiting for you, you just couldn't keep up with us, fatass!"

"Shut your fucking Jew mouth!" Cartman exclaimed, his eyebrows furrowing in anger. _"Just another normal day," _I thought, a grin on my face. The two of them bickered for another minute until Cartman finally got tired of it and made a fake excuse for why he ended the argument. Typical Cartman.

"Hey, do you guys want to go get ice cream later?" Stan asked with a smile on his face. Kyle and Cartman nodded, and I agreed as well. After talking and laughing about fart jokes and things that happened in school, the four of us all stood up from the log we were sitting on and started on our stroll to the ice cream shop. The rest of them had brought money with them, but obviously I didn't because I'm poor. Cartman teased me for it again when we arrived at the ice cream store.

Stan was generous enough to lend me some money that he had; however, I had to pay him back. "Yeah, I'll probably have the money to pay you back in just a couple years." I giggled as we all sat down in our normal seats. Stan was always across from me, and he was sitting next to Kyle, who was just across from Cartman. Of course, I always got stuck taking a seat next to the fatass, but I didn't really care as much as the Super Best Friends would if they sat next to him.

Once Kyle finished his ice cream, he sighed, "Just another normal summer day, huh?" He had gotten chocolate, and obviously didn't know how to use a napkin. Not that I really cared, but the ice cream was just _all_ over his face! I chuckled at it, handing him a napkin while telling him to wipe his face off.

"Dude! You have ice cream all over your face!" Stan laughed as Kyle took the napkin from me. He quickly wiped his face and stuffed the dirty napkin inside his pocket.

"Stan, you have no room to talk!" Kyle replied, taking another napkin from the dispenser, wiping his best friend's face with the napkin.

"Hey, Kyle, stohmp mit!" Stan's voice was muffled for a brief second while Kyle cleaned his face with the napkin. When his face was finally cleared of the sticky ice cream, Kyle tossed the napkin at his face. They both laughed and stood up to throw the napkins in the trash can.

As the two of them left the table, Cartman continued to gobble down his enormous cup of ice cream. I watched as he finished up the five scoops of ice cream, getting some of it on the table.

"Why are you so fat Cartman? Please, tell me, why the _fuck_ are you so fat?" I asked with a bit of a crack in my voice.

He placed his ice cream cup down firmly, and looked over at me with a stern face. With the double chin he has, I honestly couldn't take him seriously and started laughing my ass off. "I'm not fat! I'm big-boned!" His words only made me laugh harder as he continued on talking, "God dammit, Kenny, I hate you so much!"

"Oh god, I'm going to piss myself!" I yelled, trying to calm myself down a bit. Only when Stan and Kyle got back did I actually calm down and stop laughing hysterically.

"What were you laughing about, Kenny?" Stan asked as he walked back over to the table. I wiped some of the tears on my face away with one of my hands. "Oh, it was nothing," I mumbled, giggling a little bit more before finally stopping. The two of them told me and Cartman that we were going to leave now, so I stood up and started to follow Kyle and Stan out of the ice cream shop.

After walking in the hot summer sun for a few minutes, Stan stopped to sit on the curb of the sidewalk, "You were right, it is way too hot out today." He panted as the rest of us seated ourselves on the curb next to him. Stan, Kyle, and Cartman suggested some ideas of where they could go next. I was listening to them very much, though.

I stared at some ants that were salvaging some crumbs from the street. _"Poor little ants, they want food too, but they have to go on a long journey for like, 3 hours just to get a few little crumbs."_ I thought, moving some of the crumbs right in front of the small ants, _"There you go, take the food and run! The world is way too harsh for you to be out here. Go back in your little ant holes and be with your family." _

Blowing some air out of my nose, I used a finger to wipe more sweat off my forehead, _"I sure hope all you ants actually have a good family and friends too." _I glanced over at the three of my friends, who were laughing and smiling. Sometimes I even think that they forget completely about me, but then one of them speaks up and says as they stand up and walk away, "Are you coming, Kenny?"

Normally it's Stan or Kyle, but never Cartman. No, he never says anything to me, even when I die; he usually laughs or just shrugs it off. Stan and Kyle seem to care, but Cartman doesn't. He probably doesn't even have a care in the world for anyone else but his fat self. I sighed, walking along with them to wherever we were going. Of course, all I can do is just shrug the worry off of dying and try to have some fun. I just go along with it; there isn't anything I can do to stop myself from dying all the time.

Sometimes I wish I could just die for good, but sometimes I wish that someone, anyone, even Cartman, would remember.

**A/N: The beginning is not meant to pull you into the story, no, because I wrote that when I didn't have a clue where to go with this fanfic, but now I know where it's going! Woohoo! New chapter will be up soon, guys! Favorite, follow, and review, please! No like, please review, I love those things.**


	2. Shitty Forces of Nature Fuck Stuff Up

After walking a little more, the four of us all stopped at Stan's house for a while to play video games. Stan had won most of them, and the rest of us were getting a bit annoyed at how he had high-jacked the games.

"I didn't high-jack them! These are _my _games, so obviously I'm going to win them." Stan replied as he took out another game from its case and placed it into the game slot.

"This game better not be fucking rigged because I swear, if it is, I will fucking kill you!" Cartman shouted, shifting over a tad on the couch. When the video game started, he cheered because it was a racing game, apparently he was a pro at these kind of games. Well, that's what Cartman _said_, anyway.

As the game progressed, I noticed that Cartman actually was fairly good at the game, but he still couldn't beat Stan. He wiped a bead of sweat off of his eyebrow and glanced over at Stan, who seemed to be concentrating fully on the game. Cartman's actions ultimately made him lose, I mean, get in second place, because obviously Kyle and I weren't as good as we thought either.

"God dammit, Stan, I'm going to punch your face in!" He yelled furiously, jumping up from the couch while holding his fists up. I laughed hysterically and thought, _"Why the hell is he so stupid?" _Kyle grabbed Stan and moved him away from the potential threat of Cartman's fist slamming into his face.

We all pretty much decided to go back into the smoldering heat after that, which really, _really_, sucks. Well, to me it sounded awful, going back into that humid weather, but to them, right about now it sounded like a good idea. Considering that Cartman just about pounded Stan's face in, he probably needed to let off some steam in a different way. Of course, the fatass smelled so bad out in the heat with all the sweat he was perspiring.

The sky was starting to get dark with little orange and pink spots dotting the sky before it actually started to turn a dark blue. The clouds covered the moon above us, and we could barely see where we were running off to.

The day always starts off fine, but then some shitty force of nature comes along and is just like, "These four kids are hanging out and having a good time, maybe I should fuck it all up!" That's what happens every single day, and today, we started to run away from a crazy guy in a van, I mean, seriously, what's new about this?

"In there! Quick!" Kyle screamed as he pointed to a dilapidated shed across a field of grass. The four of us darted inside of the shed before the man in the van could spot us.

"Dude, why does this stuff always happen to us?" Stan panted as he caught his breath. Cartman closed the door slowly behind him and slumped down against it.

I didn't say a word as the other three of them discussed how messed up this town is, because obviously I know how fucked up it is, and I don't need to partake in a conversation that I know will always lead up to the same exact words. Once we left the shed, which we really didn't hide in for all that long, the dude found us again! Oh, no shit, Sherlock! Like I didn't see that coming, and the next part, oh, that is my favorite!

Stan took the lead and led us all to a cliff, and of course, it was a dead end. "What are we going to do?" He whispered to Kyle once the man came out of the van with a gun. I glanced over at Cartman's face and his eyes were wide out of shock. I had a faint smile on my face as I chuckled a little, walking in front of the three of them.

"You can shoot me if you want, but leave them alone." I hollered to the man, who was now pointing the gun at me. I felt a laugh emerge from my throat again as I spoke my next words, "You only die once, right? I may as well spend my life saving my friends."

"No, Kenny, don't!" Stan and Kyle shouted in unison. Cartman stood there with his hands held up in the air, too shocked to move. I turned back to them with a grin on my face, "It's okay," I took a piece of paper from my pocket, holding up my pointer finger to the man with the gun, signaling him to wait a moment as I walked over to Cartman, placing the note on the ground next to his foot. I ambled back to the man and took a deep breath, "I only have one life, right? Just shoot me— will you?"

I prepared for the click of the trigger and giggled. The man obviously thought of my laughter as a threat and with just a second flat, I was on the ground, blood trickling down my face. My hood flipped onto my back, exposing the bruises and scars on my neck and head. Most of my hair was covering the bruises, but Stan, Kyle, and Cartman could easily see the scars on my neck. I hadn't been killed yet because I had been shot at the side of my head, just enough to miss my brain.

Those same words, those inevitable and so very common words that I hate so very much, "Oh my god, he killed Kenny!" Stan cried as he ran over to the man. Unfortunately, the guy took off back into his van and drove away, leaving Stan to feel the guilt and grief of not being able to stop the man.

Those words that hurt my head so much, just replaying in my mind over and over, "You bastard!" Kyle shouted with fury and hurt in his face. I didn't want them to realize I was alive, so I let go and left my body as the blood from my head covered the ground below it. He dashed over to me, crouching down while staring at me with a few tears clearly inside his eyes. He searched for a sign of life that may still be visible on my face, and stood up, unable to find a trace. Stan rushed over to Kyle, putting a hand on his shoulder, soon to pull his best friend into a hug.

As a ghost, I floated over to Cartman, who was giggling a little. When he picked up the note I had left on the ground for him, his face went grim. "What the fuck is this…?" He mumbled to himself, "Wait, what does that say…Don't…Don't forget."

"Kenny, if you can hear me, you little bastard, then what the fuck do you mean by 'Don't forget'?" Cartman shouted at the top of his lungs, even though I was right next to him, of course, he didn't know that. Stan and Kyle didn't seem to care about what he said, they just walked on away from my body, probably off to tell someone about my death— again.

I moved my hand through Cartman's arm, trying to send a chill that would be sort of like a point to my dead body. Sure, he did freak out for a second, but he noticed. He actually glanced straight at me for a second and then looked back at my dead body. "Don't forget…that you died?" I wanted to nod and cry and scream that he had the right idea, and I tried to hug him, but failed.

Once Cartman felt the chill of my touch, he must have gotten afraid and ran off with the note in his hand. I followed him, of course, just to make sure he wouldn't drop the significant piece of paper.

When he finally got home and into his room, I noticed that he set the note on his dresser. As soon as he did, Cartman got dressed into his pajamas, which I turned around for because I didn't want to see his overly chubby body. Aside from that, he stared up at the ceiling, probably thinking to himself once the light bulb in his room flickered off.

I gazed down on him from the side of his bed as he whispered, "Don't forget that he died, huh? This has to be some joke that Kahl put him up to, making me feel chills and shit like that. That little bastard probably isn't even dead; he's just pulling my leg." Cartman closed his eyes for a second and gasped, tensing up a bit.

Surprised at his sudden change in mood, I drifted away from him. "Oh fuck, dude, no way! Kenny, I hate you so much, don't try playing a shitty little joke on me—!" His eyes opened again and his body relaxed as he spoke again, "Wait, where'd you go?"

Cartman laughed, closing his eyes again and turning on his side, "If you really did die, Kenny, why would I forget, anyway? It isn't like you would just disappear from my mind forever, you asshole…"

When he succumbed to sleep, I floated out of the window and looked back at him. "Did he see me as a ghost?" I muttered, turning my head to face front, "That's sort of impossible, especially when he closes his eyes…"

"I won't disappear from his mind forever, huh? I better remember those words…" I chuckled, feeling myself start to disappear from the plane of reality. _"Well, here I go, off into Hell again. See you in a minute, Damien."_

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**A/N: Second chapter and Kenny's already dead. But next chapter is an appearance from Damien, woohoo! I want to add in the little bit of Kenny's visit into Hell, so that's going to be the next chapter. The chapter after that will be back into the regular world. Please review, favorite, and follow, please! **


	3. Another Visit Into Hell

"Long time no see." I said nonchalantly as I ambled over to Damien, who was leaning against a stone. He looked furious with me, considering I'd been here at least five times just this week.

"What happened _this_ time?" He asked in that high-pitched voice of his.

I answered back with a laugh, "Just another crazy guy with a gun. Nothing new." Damien didn't seem to find it funny, though, and his eyebrows furrowed, "You really are here all the time, aren't you, Kenny?"

Okay, now _I_ was getting irritated, "I've told you before, I keep dying, but something is bringing me back to life, I just don't know what." I took a deep breath, "I wish I knew what it was. The thought is starting to creep in my mind, I mean, dying really fucking hurts, dude."

I leaned against the stone as well, staring at all the people getting tortured and throwing swear words out of their mouth like no tomorrow. Sometimes I wonder why I even got stuck down in this Hell hole; I haven't done anything too bad, right? Aside from killing a few people, robbing places, and a couple other things, nothing too bad.

Damien glanced over at me and replied, "So, what you're saying is, you don't want to keep on dying and coming down here. You just want to die for good, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Also, it's really annoying hearing those same words that they say all the time when I die. It's like a ringing in my ears." I sighed, standing up straight while pacing around the fire-hot ground. I pulled down my hood and put my hands over my ears, "All they say, all they ever say, are those words! 'Oh my God, they killed Kenny! You bastard!' That's all that ever leaves their mouths when I die! They don't care; they don't ever remember! I left a note to one of them, but I doubt it'll work." I realized now that I was shouting and uncovered my hands from my ears.

Walking over to me, Damien hesitantly placed a hand on my shoulder, something that a kid from the 7th layer of Hell probably wouldn't ever do. "Maybe you need someone to remember. Or someone to care, even if it's one of your most unreliable friends." He jerked his hand away from my shoulder, getting a tone of bitterness in his voice, "But, you didn't hear that from me! And don't ever get the impression that I might be your friend, because I'm not! I hate you, remember that!"

Taking a glimpse at his face, I snickered and turned around to face him, "_Sure_ you're not. I hate you too, Damien." He stomped off with his irascible attitude following him as he searched around for Pip, apparently the British kid had come down here when he died, too.

I slumped down against one of Satan's many dressing room walls and sighed with a grin on my face. Man, he sure likes those insane clothes of his that he wears all the time down here. I watched as crowds and crowds of people stumbled off into the center of Hell. Satan was giving some kind of lecture to those who tried getting out and killing other people, which doesn't make sense, since everyone down here is already dead. Except for Damien and I, we are still technically living in this dump of a place.

A few moments later, Pip and Damien walked over to me. Pip crouched down, sat down Indian-style, and spoke to me, "So, Kenny, I heard that you have a little problem."

"Damn straight I do. None of my friends remember my deaths." I nodded, covering my eyes with my hands.

"You gave a note to one of your friends, didn't you? I mean, that's what Damien told me." Pip looked over at me with an empathetic face, "Maybe they will remember this time! Don't fret about it!"

I rolled my eyes and rubbed my temples, "No, Pip, you don't get it. They _can't _remember. It's almost impossible."

Pip laughed and exclaimed, "Aha! You said almost! There's a start!" I giggled and reminded him how many times they hadn't remembered.

"Cartman remembered once." Damien spoke up after a few moments of silence. I stared up at him, wide-eyed, "No way, he couldn't have!" My mouth hung open for a couple seconds.

"But he did, it was when he owned an amusement park, and he said that you die all the time to a person who was trying to shut it down because you died." He explained, crossing his arms.

I couldn't believe my ears as I replied, "Then why doesn't he remember now?"

"Because that was over a year ago." Damien retorted. _"That is true,"_ I thought, _"but how could he remember at the time?" _I felt as if I was disappearing from reality again and shut my eyes. _"Oh well, I guess I'll never know." _In just a few seconds flat, I was back in my bed, waking up for the productive day to start.

Minutes passed, and I was resting in my bed, thinking to myself. _"I sure hope that Cartman remembers the note." _Little drips of tears fell down my cheek as I turned on my side. _"If he doesn't, I don't know what I'll do. If I can't die for good and can't get him to remember, then what should I do?"_

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and looked up at the ceiling as I sighed, "It's been a long day."

**A/N: Poor Kenny, having to deal with all that in his life. It's almost like he doesn't even have a family or friends. It's sort of like he's alone. Anyway, next chapter should be up soon, please review, favorite, and follow!**


	4. A Movie and A Make-Out, Well, Sort Of

Checking the clock on my bedside table, I sighed as I realized that the time was far later than I had expected. It was 10 o' clock; also the time that just yesterday Kyle and Stan said they were going to pick me up to go see a movie together. Cartman, of course, was invited as well. The two of them said that we were going to pick him up last because apparently he's the most unimportant of the four of us.

Sure, I agreed with them, even though I actually thought to myself that I was the most unimportant. For a moment I thought that today I would be gone from their minds forever, but nope, here they are now, bugging me as always to get off my ass and get dressed.

"Come on, Kenny, hurry! We still have to pick Cartman up, and it's almost 11!" Stan said, waiting outside my bedroom door. I stood up, brushed my hair hastily, and rushed out of the door, following Stan and Kyle down to Cartman's house.

As we walked down the sidewalk, Kyle exclaimed, "I'm so excited, this is supposed to be the best movie of the year!"

Stan chuckled and replied, "It is? I thought it was the worst." Kyle playfully pushed him off the curb, "You just don't want to see it because it has Adam Sandler in it!"

I silently giggled to myself behind the two of them; they always made me laugh when they had little arguments like this. Sometimes they could be squabbling about one of the stupidest things, such as which one of them stole Ike's spoon, and it could still be qualified as the most comical shit ever heard.

"No, that's not why, I swear! It just sounds stupid to me. I mean, the first _Grown_ _Ups_ movie was pretty shitty, dude!" Stan shouted as we continued on walking to Cartman's house.

"Well, this one won't be as shitty as you think, Stan! I read good reviews about it!" Kyle retorted as we came up to Cartman's porch. Stan knocked on the door and mumbled, "Yeah. That review that rated it one star totally sounds like a good review to me."

We heard Cartman's normal shout for his mom to get the door and then the jiggling of the door knob as he gets up off his ass and opens the door. "What do you want?"

"We're going to see _Grown Ups 2_, remember?" Stan answered.

"Oh, right! I almost forgot!" Cartman ran back in and got some money from his mom, coming back outside in only 3 seconds flat. "Alright, let's go!"

As we walked on to the movies, I noticed that Cartman wasn't even acknowledging my existence. He continued bickering with Kyle and chatting his mouth off to Stan about how utterly awesome the movie was going to be. But he didn't glance at me or anything, not until we got inside the movie theatre did he realize that I was there. What a shocked face that was.

Once we sat down and the trailers for the movie started, he spoke to me, "Kenny, where the hell did you come from?" He stared at me for the longest time before I actually answered him, "I've been here."

Throughout the whole movie, Cartman was poking me and whispering to me. I wasn't sure why he was doing that, maybe to annoy me. When the movie ended, Kyle and Stan waited outside for us as we went to the bathroom. Stan argued with Kyle about how terrible the movie was while Cartman and I walked back inside the movie theatre to go into the bathroom.

No one else was inside, and as soon as we got done peeing out all those overpriced and huge drinks, Cartman pulled a part of my hood and dragged me over to the corner in the bathroom, asking me, "Why are you still here?"

"What do you mean?" I asked him as my eyes widened. A look of sorrow swept over his face, "N-Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

I caught on to the idea that he remembered my death. He remembered! "No, please tell me, I have to know!"

"I'll tell you later, Kenny…Let's just get back to Stan and Kyle." He released me and walked out of the bathroom, covering his face with his hands.

My heart contorted into a whole mesh of emotions. In one sense, I was joyous to know that Cartman remembered my death, but also distressed. What if he feels depressed about it? Now that he knows that I die all the time, the feeling of knowing that must really suck. I was also furious that he didn't just go on with what he was going to say.

I sighed and ambled out of the bathroom, nearly bumping into people as I walked out. Kyle seemed irritated that I took so long. Stan just decided that it was too hot to do anything else, so we all went on our separate ways back to each other's houses. Except Cartman, he wanted me to come along to his house so he could explain to me what he meant before. Even though I already knew, I went along with him anyway.

Cartman practically hauled me up the stairs to his room. I was more than irritated with him for doing that.

"About what I said earlier…" Cartman muttered, closing the door so his mother couldn't hear, and then rushing back over to me, "…You shouldn't be here. You should be dead as a turkey on Thanksgiving getting ready to go into the oven of Hell!"

It has been not just one time, but two times, that he's remembered. One year before, which seemed like an eternity ago, and now today. I grinned widely. It was the widest grin that has ever been on my face, and for once I hugged Cartman, laughing out of all my joy.

I'm not going to say that he wasn't surprised and taken aback by my actions, because he was, but he seemed pretty confused, too— so I explained it to him as I let him out of my grasp.

"You're immortal then, right, Kenny?" Cartman asked with a smirk.

"Yeah. It isn't really all that fun, considering the deaths I have to endure. I mean, it really _really _hurts sometimes. I'm so happy right now, though! You really remembered! You really did!" The grin on my face didn't fade until I thought of something else, "But…will you remember for the rest of your life?"

"I'll try, but, can I ask something? You wouldn't want to, I don't know, help play some pranks, and maybe do some tasks I need to handle, would you?" Cartman obviously was trying to get me to do some stuff for him, but I wasn't going to give in. I shook my head, "No way, you are _not _going to exploit me for being immortal! I will not, ever in a million years, help you with pranks just so I can get killed in the end!"

Cartman pouted for a few minutes, asking me again and again if I'd do it. For a moment he said nothing, but then a smirk curled onto his face as he began whispering some, well, dare I say it, disturbing words, even in _my_ mind, into my ear. I glanced at his eyes and they were staring me down with the most seductive gaze. It was mesmerizing, and I feel as though that I shouldn't have come here at all just because of what he did next. I didn't feel like the whole incident was a terrible thing, but it made me have shivers down my spine.

"Just, a couple of favors? A few little tasks?" Cartman whispered, grazing his teeth against my ear before turning my head towards his. I was shorter than him some, so he grabbed the tip of my chin and rose it up, moving closer and closer to my face. "C-Cartman, what the fuck—"

He just kept on advancing towards my lips. Once his were millimeters away, he murmured, "I just need some things taken care of. You'll do that for me..." Cartman's lips were almost grazing mine as he finished his sentence, "…right?" He pressed his lips gently to mine, and it was an odd sensation of emotions.

On one side of my brain, I wanted to punch his guts out, but on the other, my knees were buckling and I couldn't handle the wonderful sensation. Cartman was an amazing kisser; it had me trembling and wanting more.

And he gave that to me, planting more kisses on my lips, sucking on them before finally pulling away. I started to get hot and bothered just as he did so. It wasn't like me to get so flustered about someone else's actions; normally I was the one to do suck alluring things.

The rest of the night, Cartman explained all of the various tasks he wanted me to do for him, which, of course now, I listened to him.

The tasks weren't all too hard for me, I could survive them. I almost thought that he was just testing it out again to see if I'd come back the next day when I died one of the times. From what he just did, I'm sure that's what he wants to see.

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**A/N: Oh yes. The end of this chapter, in my opinion, was the best part. Enjoy reading it again, if you want. Cartman is a sneaky little bastard, huh? Always getting under people's skin. Anyway, I'm very sorry that this chapter came so late; I've been working on other fanfics and roleplays and, ya know, it took a while for me to think of what I'd write next. Please remember to review, favorite, and follow! No seriously, review, I want to know what you thought of this chapter.**


	5. Tasks of My Fatass Friend

The tasks that were put on my plate weren't as hard as I thought they were, well, until the last one. God dammit, Cartman, you wanted this didn't you? You wanted to see me die and come back the next day, you dickhead. Just thinking about it makes me want to punch your shitty face in.

Maybe I should start from the beginning, it would be terrible of me to start talking like I'm one of those Goth kids again or something about pain, so I'll go back to the beginning of the day.

I had just woken up from a chillingly distressing nightmare. Sweating and breathing heavily, I stumbled out of bed and got myself dressed for the day. As always, my suffocating orange jacket and skinny-as-can-be jeans wrapped tight around my form, both from wear-and-tear and years of use.

I sighed and wiped the sweat from my face. I felt like I was in a boiling pot of soup, what with no air conditioning in the house and waking up from the most terrifying nightmare ever. The clothes on my body weren't helping, either. Sometimes I wish that someone from history just killed the guy who invented clothing and never spoke of him again.

As soon as I left the house, hoping to get some fresh air and away from the stifling air from inside, Cartman showed up, running over to me. "Kenny! Hey! We have to start the tasks now, remember?"

Blowing air out of my nose and rolling my eyes, I thought, _"Yeah,_ we_."_ While rubbing my eyes to get the sleep out of them, I replied, "Yeah, yeah, I remember. How could I forget?"

"I don't know! Just come on, asshole! We have to start them now, otherwise everyone will be awake if we do them later!" Cartman shouted, grabbing my wrist. He dragged me off to the house of our target, Kyle. Who else would Cartman have wanted to pull a prank on but him? Oh yeah, tons of other people.

"So, what am I supposed to do?" I asked as Cartman got out some toilet paper and eggs from the bag he was holding. He handed them to me and just said to throw them at the house. I know how TPing and egging a house works; he didn't have to tell me. I threw the eggs at Kyle's window and his parents' and then quickly threw toilet paper over the rooftop, draping over part of the windows. Cartman chuckled and dragged me off to the next location that we were going to wreak havoc on.

This went on for about two hours— running off to people's houses and TPing and egging each and every one, except our own, of course. The last task was the only terrible one. It was completely different from the egging and TPing. As we walked on to the cliff that I had died on yesterday, Cartman explained to me what I had to do. I agreed; at the time it didn't seem so bad.

Only when I finished did I realize that it was all dreadful. I was sharpening up some knives for Cartman when a man came up to me and asked what I was doing. He was wearing a police uniform. "Uh, well, I was just—"

Cartman snickered from behind the bushes and gave me a smirk. I glared over at him with furrowed eyebrows as the man pulled out handcuffs to put my wrists in. "No! Stop!" I shouted, dragging one of the knives in my hand across the man's chest. He didn't seem to be wearing a bulletproof vest, as blood started to rush out of his body. I stared at the dying man, who was yelling in agony, and rushed over to Cartman, wide-eyed while snatching the rest of the knives.

"You dickhead! Why would you make me do that?! I just killed that guy!" I screamed, dropping the knives and grasping Cartman's collar.

"That was the last task! I needed you to kill that police officer." He grunted, struggling to get away from me. I pushed him to the ground, "Killing someone isn't okay! I thought you just needed me to sharpen your fucking knives!"

I picked up one of the knives and struck it through my chest, dropping it as soon as the blood started to leave my body, "I'm not letting this ever happen again! You have to forget! F-Forget this! I don't want an insanely evil person like you remembering my deaths! You're fucking selfish, C-Cartman!" I coughed up blood and clenched my wrists as I fell to my knees.

Crawling over and sitting in front of me, Cartman put a hand on my shoulder before hugging me. A faint smile crept on my face as he spoke, "I don't want to forget you, though. You may be the person who hates me the most, and I definitely hate you too, but to be honest, you're my favorite person." He pulled my hood down and pushed my head down to his shoulder gently.

I jokingly laughed and coughed as my eyelids closed, "D-Don't get sincere on me. I won't treat you any better, and you know that you never will either." I wrapped my arms around his bulky build. I've never noticed it before, but he really is just big-boned. Cartman may look completely fat when you see him from far away, but up close, he's just big-boned.

"Yeah, you're still the biggest asshole in the world." Cartman muttered. I stifled a laugh and hugged him tighter, "You do know that this might be the last time you see me today, right? I think I want to know how I come back, so, maybe, can you keep watch in my house or something? Tell my mom that I'm dead and that you're going to watch for me to come back. That'll bring the tears, and she'll definitely say yes."

Cartman whispered an agreement and held onto me until the life left my body. He has never been so soft and comforting before. Usually when I die he either laughs or doesn't say a word. This time, he hasn't said a thing, but I could see tears in his eyes before I went off to Hell. It made me wonder if he actually cared about me.

Hopefully when I came back the next day he'd have some answers about how I come back to life. If he doesn't, then we just have to find a way for me to die for good.

In Hell, all was the same. Damien and Pip were sitting on a log inside Damien's room. It was only a little ways from Satan's, and I figured he'd be there. The two were laughing, which was a rare sight, because technically they're both in Hell and dead.

"Hey guys, how's Hell been in the last few hours?" I waved a hand, closing the door behind me as I walked in the room. Damien groaned, "Again? You really must stop that."

"Don't worry, I'm figuring out a way to die forever." I said, taking a seat next to him on the log. Pip beamed at me, mumbling a cheery hello.

"Oh, that's even worse! You just ruined the rest of my day." Damien crossed his arms as the corners of his mouth curved down.

"What 'day'? Does time even pass here?" I asked, smirking while turning my head to Damien.

"Of course it does, dim wit! We don't get older, of course, but time does pass! If it didn't no one would be able to come into Hell! I thought my father told you that on your first visit in." He scooted closer to Pip to try and get away from me.

"Okay, I guess he did, but I forgot, sorry; it's been five years since I was first here. You don't have to get all furious with me!" I poked his cheek and his face flushed as he stood up, "Get the fuck out of here right now, Kenny!" He pointed to the door, "If you are just going to ruin a perfectly good conversation that I was having with Pip, then you can just leave!"

I smirked and started towards the door, "Okay, go ahead and have sex without me, then." Damien fumed and glanced down at Pip. He was smiling sweetly, but his face was red as a lobster, "O-Oh. Now, Kenny, don't get the wrong idea! We were just talking is all…" Pip nervously laughed as I left the room. _"Those two are so cute together,"_ I thought, grinning from ear-to-ear. _"Damien and Pip honestly have no clue that they both have the hots for each other. Hm._ _Now _that's_ a good idea of what I can do next time I'm here! I'll get their relationship up and running."_

As I walked around the burning hot grounds of Hell, I wondered what it would be like to be in a relationship with another guy. And if I ever did, who would it be with? _"Not Stan or Kyle, they're my best friends, and,"_ I blew air out of my nose, _"They seem to be into each other."_ I started to tear up at the thought by laughing so much,_ "Maybe Cartman?" _My mind pondered about the make out session he pulled me into yesterday, and I almost puked at the thought of it happening again.

"No way, that'd be really…" The words from my mouth trailed off as I tried to think of the appropriate word for it. "Really _what_…?" The sides of my mouth curled up into an awkward smile as I stopped walking. My face felt as if it was going to burn off. _"What kind of feeling is this? I've never felt this way about someone before, and certainly never about _Cartman_."_

My eyelids drooped as if half closed before I gently smiled. "Maybe it would be with him…" Putting my hands into the pockets of my jacket, I waited for myself to dissipate from Hell and back into my room.

**A/N: I have an awesome announcement for everyone who loves this story! I have it all planned out and now you'll see chapter updates more often! You happy about that? You're happy, I know it. Please review, favorite, and follow!**


	6. Drip Drip Says the Rain

Once I opened my eyes, I saw Cartman lying on the floor next to my bed. I would have asked what he was doing in my house, but then I remembered that I told him to keep watch. After standing up and nearly tripping over him, I crouched down and punched his face.

That wasn't the right thing to do, because he opened his eyes and punched me right back— square on the nose. "FUCK!" I shouted, throwing my hands up to protect my face. My nose started to bleed, and it hurt like a bitch.

"That's what you get for punching me in the face, you asshole!" Cartman laughed, sitting up. I glared at him before taking a tissue from my bedside table. Plugging both of my nostrils with tissue paper, I tried to block out the pain from my mind. Cartman looked at me groggily as I asked, "Did you find out how I come back to life?"

Cartman was silent for a few seconds while he rubbed his eyes, "…Yeah, I think you pop out of your mom's vagina."

"What?" Were my ears listening right?

"Your mom fucking rebirths you. You were a little baby and she placed you in your bed with your jacket. She didn't notice me because I was watching from inside your closet. By the way, you've got a wonderful collection of porn in there." Okay, he didn't have to tell me he found my porn. I felt the pain of my bleeding nose leave as my mind fell into a daze. "My mom rebirths me? So, every time I die, she just somehow gets pregnant again and I pop out of her vagina?"

"Yeah. I heard her screaming. She said, 'It's happening again!'." Cartman answered, standing up from the floor. I stood up as well and threw the tissues in the garbage can I had in my room. He walked out of the room, and I followed him.

Once outside, we felt tiny droplets of water start to fall. It's such a sight to see rain in the morning, especially when it's so early that the sun starts to rise. I stared at the colors behind the mountains and sighed, "Do you have any ideas of how I can die forever, Cartman?"

"Maybe behead yourself. It's painful but quick." Cartman stuck his hands inside his jacket pockets and kicked the gravel as we walked down the road.

"Sure, but that isn't what I meant…" I was silent for a few moments before speaking again, "…If my mom makes me come alive again, I can't just kill her so I can die for good. That wouldn't be pleasant for Karen and my brother. If two of their closest family members die, then that might be traumatizing…"

"True. Maybe you need something so that you can stay dead." Cartman said, glancing over at me. My head was still in the clouds, wondering just how I could kill myself for a long time. Or permanently.

Suddenly I remembered the terminal illness I had and how I had been dead for an entire year. "That's it!" I exclaimed, grabbing Cartman's shoulders. He stared at me, wide-eyed. The rain poured down harder and soaked our clothes. "What's it?"

Grasping Cartman's hand, I led him towards the library, "You have to help me contract a terminal illness! Come on!"

When we got to the library, only one other person was there, and he was the grumpy librarian who always sleeps and never does his job anyway. I sat down at one of the computers and started to Google terminal illnesses. I ordered Cartman to research them too, but he only agreed because he had nothing else to do.

After clicking web pages and reading tons of paragraphs of text for at least an hour, Cartman took in a deep breath and groaned. "Kenny, I've read the causes of these diseases over five times already and you can't get the disease without going to Africa or getting cancer."

"Cancer is one of them, stupid." I hadn't read over the cancer stuff too much because I know a few people with it, and I feel it'd be terrible for me to get a disease like that for my own selfish purposes. I just want to die forever, not get something that tons of people feel agony for every day. I sympathize for their families too, and it's way too sad. "Wait, what about going to Africa?"

"It's impossible to get it now, all the bats that lived there are in caves or something and they have to bite you. Plus, all these diseases take so long to kill you— it'd be really painful and slow." That's when the hope left my mind.

Cartman noticed that I wasn't doing anything anymore and shook me to make sure I was alive. "There isn't any reason for me to live if all I do is die every day. Nothing seems enjoyable anymore…"

I was led outside by Cartman, who stared at me with furrowed eyebrows. After a minute, he slapped me in the face, "GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!" He bellowed as I rubbed the part of my cheek that he slapped. Looking at me solemnly, he gripped my shoulders tightly while hollering, "You need to fucking calm down, Kenny! Your life doesn't suck! You have friends! You have a family that loves you! You get a girlfriend every once in a while! That's all you need to be happy…"

The tears from my eyes rushed down my face, trickling down onto the road. _Drip. Drip._ The rain hadn't stopped while we were inside the library, it only turned into a thunderstorm. _Drip. Drip. _The pitter-patter of the rain surrounded us as we embraced. I planted my face into Cartman's shoulder and wept until my eyes turned red. _Drip. Drip. _He whispered a few words that didn't reach my ears and then let go of me. "…always remember that."

_"__Always remember what?" _I thought, wondering whether to ask him what he had said. Deciding that it would ruin the moment, I smiled feebly. _Drip. Drip._ "I will."

A few minutes later, Cartman and I parted ways, going back to our separate houses. As I sat on the floor in my room, I remembered the first time that I died and every detail that led to now. I was 6 years old— only a child – and I had already experienced pain and death instead of joy and life.

_"'Drip. Drip.' says the rain."  
_

**A/N: I found the most perfect song to go with this fic! It's called I'm Not An Angel by Halestorm, and it fits great with the story. If you want to, listen to it while reading the next chapter. I'll be going into Kenny's memory of the first time he died, and then we'll only have two more chapters to go! I'm sorry, but it's ending soon; the story is ending in three chapters. I'm so sorry that this chapter was so short, but the next three will be really long— at least 3000 words each— so they might be a little late. Expect the next chapter in maybe a week! Please review and favorite! **


	7. Forgotten Was the Word

**A/N: I suggest listening to the song I'm Not An Angel by Halestorm while reading this chapter! So, go on, look it up, put it on repeat, and enjoy sitting back and reading. I'll wait…**

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**…****You done? Okay, good! But I have one more recommendation. Look up "Memories of Days Gone By sad piano" on youtube. It's the first one that shows up. I'll wait again…Okay, let's get started!**

_One day I was playing and enjoying the winter,_

_But something went awry, and now I'm a dead character. _

"Kenny! It's time to come inside to eat! Your sister and brother are already done eatin'." A red-haired woman shouted from the front door. A blond boy, Kenny, of about 6 years old sat on some snow that was part of the yard, playing with toy cars. He looked up and asked for more time to stay outside. The woman agreed for five more minutes and stumbled back inside the near-dilapidated house.

Kenny smiled and laughed as some of the cars crashed into each other. "Ha! Destruction! Kill the cars! Boom!" He ran the two toy cars into each other again before they shattered into millions of little pieces. The blond boy was cut on the arm by one of the pieces and started to cry. His mother, the red-haired woman, didn't seem to hear him as she stood arguing with his father inside the house.

He wasn't so much bothered by the pain of the cut, but rather disappointed now that his toy cars were demolished. As he sat there crying, a suspicious car stopped in front of the little boy's house and two men stepped out of the car, grabbing Kenny by his arms. "No! No! My…My toys!" He struggled to get out of the men's grasp and reached out for his broken car, but alas, he could not grab it in time.

Thrown into the trunk of the car like an old tire, Kenny cried and hit the inside of the trunk after it closed. He screamed and shouted and banged his hands on the sides, but no one was going to hear him as the car started to drive away.

He was being kidnapped and felt the core of his heart sink. He was petrified and frightened of what would become of him. Moments later, the boy was kept inside the trunk as the car halted to a stop. Kenny heard voices only seconds after the car stopped, "…he has to stay in there until…"

"…that wasn't the plan!" Gun shots and thuds fell on the blond boy's ears. His eyes grew with more fear than ever and then shut closed, staying silent and holding his breath as the man opened the trunk. He hoped that the man would not think he was still alive.

A smirk spread across the man's lips as he picked Kenny up. Once the click of a door was heard, the boy breathed out and in again. The man didn't seem to notice, luckily. After the door shuttered again, he was dropped on the floor and kicked.

Kenny couldn't take it; he had to open his eyes and breathe. "S-Stop!" He shouted, struggling to crawl away from the man. Tons of other men surrounded him. He was trapped. Minutes later, the boy was raped and then shot in the head. "That'll shut him up." A frown was clear on the man's face as the boy's body disappeared. Later that day, all the men were arrested and accused of murder and rape.

_I went to Heaven after my life ended;_

_After being dropped into Hell, my life was extended._

Floating up to the sky, the boy, Kenny, of about 6 years old held his arms up, and squinted his eyes to look at Heaven. Oh, what a wonderful place it was. It was filled with fluffy clouds and angels and anything delightful that ever was! It _was _a beautiful place. That is, before God kicked him out.

"But, I can't go! I never did a thing wrong!" God was banishing him from Heaven. How was this possible? Did he not have time for Kenny, or was he punishing him for something? Kenny was a good boy; he never did something evil or bad!

And then he fell. He screamed as the halo from his head disappeared, "I never did anything!"

"I don't deserve this!" The blond boy just fell and cried about his death and over his unacceptance into Heaven. "This is a terrible day," the boy whispered, "I'm so young. Why did I have to go already? Why?" Tears welled up in Kenny's eyes as he muttered over and over that he'd done nothing wrong.

With a thud, the boy hit the grounds of Hell. Sniffing and wiping his eyes, Kenny weakly stood up on his feet. What a horrid smell it was. What a terrifying place teeming with death and torture at every corner— everything unpleasant that ever was.

A boy with jet black hair slowly but surely walked over to Kenny. "Wh-Who are you?" The blond boy sniffled, fixing his jacket. A booming voice chimed in, "Introduce yourself!"

The black-haired boy rubbed his face with his hands before groaning and perking up slightly, "I'm Damien, and I'll be your tour guide of Hell." He seemed like a misbehaved boy, one with a mindset of no morals or point to live— where only mischief and sorrow filled his mind.

Damien showed Kenny around Hell, pointing out important and unimportant things in the huge area. "…this is my room, and my dad's at the far end there. I like my privacy, so don't you dare enter without knocking! If you do, my father will banish you to a place of nothingness!" Damien's fuzzy eyebrows furrowed as the two boys walked past a room with walls shooting up from the ground. Peeking inside through the ajar door, Kenny saw a very bleak room. It didn't seem like Damien had much to do here; everything being evil and nothing to occupy his time.

The tour didn't last that long, only about ten minutes more of walking was included. An enormously towering building stood at the far end of Hell, and the blond boy wondered what it was. "Oh, that?" Damien said with a questioning tone, "That's just a huge tower. Nothing really peculiar about it. Sometimes when people ask I give them a story about how it can bring them back to life or something extravagantly impossible like that, but I'm not allowed to do that anymore."

"Oh." Kenny stared at the monumental tower with curiosity. He started to wander over to it, leaving his tour guide to talk about all the wonders of Hell alone. Damien wasn't that interested in giving a tour in the first place, but he was concerned that the blond boy had decided to go to the edge of Hell. "Hey! Where are you going?"

Entering a daze, Kenny continued to make his way towards the tower. Once in front of it, he saw a chair sitting on the top of the stairs that led to go inside the tower. "You really feel _that_ compelled to come here? Even when I told you that it was a joke?" Damien caught up to the blond boy, wondering why he was climbing up the steps. "Hey! Stop!"

Kenny flopped onto the chair but felt no different. His mind must have been wrong about this being magical, yet his heart told him to come over here. What could be so special about a stupid tower?

Only a few seconds later, he felt strange. Kenny felt as if he was dying again. Was this just a dream? "What's going on?" The blond boy asked, seeing little sparkles and hearing a clock ticking.

"I…I don't know!" Damien shouted. He called for his father, and suddenly Satan himself appeared next to the black-haired boy. "S-Something's happening!"

"He's…disappearing." Satan mumbled, a look of confusion on his face. "I think he's coming back to life!"

Damien cackled, "Ha! So my story wasn't a fake!" He put his hands on his hips and started to laugh, but then turned grim when he realized it was true, "Wh-What?! He's coming back to life? But, how?"

The blond boy could barely understand what the two in front of him were talking about, and just before he disappeared completely, Satan walked up to Kenny. The boy stared straight into those terrifying, malicious eyes of Satan as his booming voice spoke, "Kenny McCormick…you're…" And the words trailed off. Kenny could not hear at all or see a thing.

_On the next morning, the snow was falling freely._

_"__That one drifting small snowflake— how so very lonely."_

It was morning, fresh snow covering the ground just as the day before. The boy, Kenny, of about 6 years old, woke up in his bed, sweating yet chilly. His mother called to him and opened the door, "Kenny! You have to get up! It's 2 o' clock, and you've been sleepin' all day!"

Blinking a few times fast, the blond boyjumped up from his bed and hugged his mother's legs. Tears streamed from his eyes while he exclaimed, "I love you, Mom! I love you and Karen and Kevin and Dad!" Kenny sobbed and wept as his mother comforted him, not bothering to ask what was wrong. She cared for him. She really and truly did. Despite not admitting it, she loved him much more than his other siblings.

Karen and Kevin were outside, crafting a snowman with the hard-packed snow. Kenny wandered outside in his bulky orange parka and orange sweatpants, joining them. He noticed their happiness and took a deep breath, "That really was just a dream…" He whispered, staring at the snow that fell. Noticing a fat friend of his in the distance, he trudged through the foot of snow to reach him.

"Hey Cartman." Kenny said, his voice muffled. The blond boy and the brunette started to take a stroll on the sidewalk. "Hey Kenny. Uh, quick question. Where were you yesterday?"

Silence fell upon the two boys for a moment. After short hesitation, Kenny answered, putting his hands in his pockets, "I…I was at my house."

"Oh…well I guess you were hiding or something. Your mom said she couldn't find you anywhere." Cartman stopped, looking over at the blond boy, who stopped walking as well.

"Y-Yeah, I was just playing hide and seek with Karen." Kenny whispered as the snowflakes gently floated in the air around them. He noticed a particularly beautiful snowflake that caught his eye. It was sparkling and had a breathtaking pattern that appeared right in front of Kenny's face. The snowflake was alone, drifting above the boy's nose. It was just there— floating— feeling lonely and excluded.

As soon as the boys slumped against a tree, the blond boy mentioned the snowflake. "Cartman, did you see that one snowflake?"

Glancing over at the boy, the brunette replied, "No, why?"

"It…It was beautifully depressing, that lonely snowflake. Fixed in the air, never to fade."

"Kenny, what's so cool about a snowflake?" Cartman asked, raising an eyebrow. He thought it to be odd that Kenny was so interested with a snowflake. There are so many patterns in a snowflake; what could be so captivating about a certain one? They all just develop into drops of water in the end anyway.

"Everything…" The blond boy said, tears dripping from his eyes as he saw his breath fade into the air, "…It reminded me of a dream I had."

"What happened in the dream?" The brunette stared at Kenny's face, curious as to why he was crying, but couldn't bring himself to ask why.

The blond gazed down at the snow, feeling a chill from the cold winter air. After a moment he explained in full detail of the dream. "How can you remember so much?" Cartman wondered. He never got an answer from Kenny, only words that were enigmatic and confusing to the brunette. "That one drifting small snowflake— how so very lonely."

_Forgotten was the word that defined me._

_It's a word that I'll only ever be._

**A/N: Okay, maybe not 3000 words, and maybe it didn't take a week. The chapter was great, and I wish I could write like that again, but I cannot. We are getting back to the regular storyline again, even though I really enjoyed writing out Kenny's memories as a 6 year old. Please please PLEASE review this chapter! I really think this was the best chapter and I really want to know what you have to say about it! **


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